


King of the Clouds

by SecretWonderland



Series: all things unholy [2]
Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Abuse, Alucard will kill for his lovers, Attempt at Humor, Blood Drinking, Blood Magic, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Magic, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Healing, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Hector you stupid bitch, M/M, Mentions of Rape, Mentions of Sumi and Taka, Minor Character Death, Multi, OT3, Smut, Vampire Bites, a lot of smut, a lot of swearing, blood link, happy times ruined, isaac laforeze is a good guy, it will all work out, like come get yall ot3 fluff, like hector goes through it like always, mentions of past trauma, trust me - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:28:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23271742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretWonderland/pseuds/SecretWonderland
Summary: Months have passed, only a few, since they first arrived. The Belmont hold is now a small cottage, much like his mother’s, only with a terribly nasty surprise under it. Despite the renovations, the three keep to the castle. For the life of him Adrian can’t figure out why, but the idea of two humans and a half-breed making a home in a monster’s castle makes him smile. There’s a garden growing behind the thing, filled with herbs and spices; a stream with fish and animals that happily visit for a drink or two; and a stable for the now pet horses they arrived with.Part of him can’t believe it’s real and his. Like a gift for whatever good he’s managed to do, perhaps. Or maybe something he has come to deserve after shedding the nickname of his mother’s people. No longer Alucard, the Prince of Darkness who defied his father, but Adrian, the defender of humanity; Adrian, the son of Vlad and Lisa. Adrian, the lover of the two best souls to ever walk the earth.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont, Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades, Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades
Series: all things unholy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673224
Comments: 17
Kudos: 140





	1. Happy Times

He’s stunning like this, naked and on his knees. One kiss just enough to be infuriating, one close enough to be entirely unsatisfying, a breathless laugh against marble skin. Another tug at his hair and he’s back to work, turning away from the  _ gorgeous  _ sight below him into the equally breathtaking sight above him. She throws her head back when he ghosts over that one particularly sensitive part. The one that always gets her screaming. A lick perfectly in time with the one between his own legs.

“ _ Fucking  _ tease.” 

All he gets is a smirk as a warning before that annoying mouth is wrapping around his cock and he’s moaning into curly red hairs, hairs that soon are wet and quivering. 

“You’re both teasing, don’t make me switch positions.” 

Tempting, to have her in the middle and squirming like he is. However, it’s much more tempting to laugh and flick his tongue in the way he  _ knows  _ gets her going. Moans merge together as cold slaps his cock, but it’s never cold for long. Not anymore, and before he knows it, a strong hand is gripping his hip and turning him. Face down, ass up. Completely humiliating, but that’s how he likes it. His face buried into this wonderfully wet heat while a slicked finger prods at his entrance. 

He tastes his lover’s cum in her and  _ fucking hell,  _ he chases it, going deeper and deeper. The heat clenches around him, another finger enters. It’s good, so intoxicatingly perfect. 

“Bite me.” 

An order moaned out as a dainty hand grips golden strands. Who is he to deny his queen? His only complaint is that to bite he must forsake her screams that are threatening to spill from perfectly bruised lips. Oh well, there are many other sounds he can revel in. There’s a pull from much rougher hands, a heat absolutely  _ burning  _ as it stretches from his ass to the top of his spine. 

“If you’re nice, you can bite me before you cum.” 

Promised, of course, demand almost. He pulls away with new satisfaction, moving down just until his lips graze her upper thigh, the same place the bastard slicking up a meaty cock had teased before. Kisses are laid down, he’s not a monster after all, he would never be anything of the sort with them, and then fangs lightly pierce. She gasps as they tear apart flesh, closing down on fingers where his tongue just explored.

It’s  _ heavenly _ , or at least as close to heaven as he’ll ever get. Especially when he’s entered and panting into the blood greedily falling into his mouth. 

Too much, he can barely catch himself before he’s licking the wound and devouring her all over again. Hands in his hair, pounding into his ass. He’s not sure what he loves more, the blood that tastes of sweet bread;  _ her _ insides with more of a salty taste combined with  _ his  _ cum; or maybe just  _ this.  _ Being between them with pleasure rippling through his every atom.

She’s close and they all know it. Panting, moaning, and finally screaming while his tongue teases until she’s whimpering. 

“That’s enough, please.”

Over sensitive and more satisfied than she had been in years, Sypha pulls away to catch her breath. Not that the sight helps, he’s sure. 

Those big stupid hands are under him again, pinning him on his back and then Trevor’s fucking into him like it’s his god-given right. Seeing as Adrian is the one beneath him, it’s not far off.

The man slips down further, a new angle, a new position. He knows the dhampir can hear his blood now, like a siren call just inches away.

“Go ahead,” is all he says before fangs are at his neck.

Euphoric, just like always. A volt of pleasure shooting from his neck straight to his cock. They both moan, Adrian’s shivered out and quieted by the blood he laps up. It’s all Trevor can do not to cum right then, looking at a fucked out Sypha and Adrian suckling at his neck. Not that he would. Not now, not yet. Not without the asshole beneath him screaming his name. 

Never takes too long, a lick to his neck and the golden hair is thrown back into the pillows. Only when he can feel the man clench around him with his own orgasm does he come for the final time that morning. 

In the aftermath he falls between them, breathing heavy and covered in sweat. Fairy laughter has the men glancing up into the beauty known as Sypha, a happy smile on her face and a softness to her eyes despite her next words.

“You both smell awful.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Trevor barks right as Adrian sighs out, 

“Didn’t you start things this morning?”

She shrugs them off, getting off the bed and offering her hands they can never refuse. 

“Did I? I can’t seem to remember anything but a bath right now.” 

What meets that remark is snorts and then groans when she drags them away from their most definitely dirtied sheets.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Months have passed, only a few, since they first arrived. The Belmont hold is now a small cottage, much like his mother’s, only with a terribly nasty surprise under it. Despite the renovations, the three keep to the castle. For the life of him Adrian can’t figure out why, but the idea of two humans and a half-breed making a home in a monster’s castle makes him smile. There’s a garden growing behind the thing, filled with herbs and spices; a stream with fish and animals that happily visit for a drink or two; and a stable for the now pet horses they arrived with. 

Part of him can’t believe it’s real and his. Like a gift for whatever good he’s managed to do, perhaps. Or maybe something he has come to deserve after shedding the nickname of his mother’s people. No longer Alucard, the Prince of Darkness who defied his father, but Adrian, the defender of humanity; Adrian, the son of Vlad and Lisa. Adrian, the lover of the two best souls to ever walk the earth. 

Adrian, the dhampir, barefoot and making breakfast for the two humans bathing somewhere nearby. 

He smells it of course, the sulfur and ash scent that’s begun to visit them once every so often, but he waits for the tell-tell sound of feet nearing him before he acknowledges it. 

Sypha has to stand on her tip-toes to kiss his cheek, but she never seems to mind. Her arms circle around his waist as he pours oil into a pan.

“Mmm, you smell like home and food.”

“All things good then.” 

She giggles, releasing him in favor of finding cups and water. “It’s getting close, you know.” 

“I know. I’ll wait until Trevor decides to join us until I deal with it.” 

“Still don’t trust me with the eggs, huh?” 

Not after last time. Adrian recalls it with a shutter, him and Trevor washing each other’s backs when a blast shook the castle. They had run down to see Sypha, still in shock in the middle of a black kitchen, smoke pouring out of the room. Eggs still on her face, she had smiled and offered them a small ‘whoops’ before snapping the mess away. 

Instead of answering, he opts for a kiss on her head right as Trevor joins them. 

“What? No good morning kisses for the Belmont?”

“Depends if you’re going to finish up breakfast for me.” 

Sypha puts the cups down to pull the biggest of them in for a kiss. The man returns the favor before spinning Adrian around. 

“Well that depends on how fast I can get rid of our visitor.” 

Adrian pulls him close, slotting their lips together and leaving him staggering. 

“Why would you waste your morning glow like that?” 

He’s met with two wicked smiles, no doubt thinking of other ways to ruin the rarity of a freshly cleaned Trevor. 

“Finish the eggs, I’ll be back before you know it.” 

Before they can protest, or even force him to put on shoes, Adrian is out the door. 

Blue meets blue.

“He’ll never learn, will he?”

Trevor scoffs, “I think he just likes to gloat his vampire parts every chance he gets.”

Sypha laughs, moving to grab a spatula even though she gets swatted away with a kiss. “It’s not like we mind, especially given this morning.”

“How could I forget, Madam ‘Bite me’?”

“Oh and you’re better? Remember the first time he bit you? Did you not cum in your pants the second his fangs grazed your skin?”

Trevor cracks an egg, completely silent even when Sypha dissolves into laughter. His ancestors be damned, there’s nothing like a set of fangs and glowing hands to get an orgasm going. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


There’s also nothing like a good kill after a good fuck.

If that’s what the three of them did could be called, of course. The ‘battle’ is over in one swift motion of Adrian’s sword. A flash of metal and a falling demon’s head. Two of them remain, not that they’re alive long enough for him to blink twice. 

At first it was one every other week, simple and easy creatures that were never too much trouble, even the animals stopped going into hiding when the fifth one was killed. But one soon turned into twos and twos have now turned into threes. Some of them wear the same as the first, black with white around the edges, others little to no clothing at all. Attacks are random, if they could be called attacks. Adrian prefers to think of them as lost night creatures, trying to return to the castle that summoned them in the first place. 

Apparently demons didn’t understand that it was under new ownership. 

One that would never call on them for any work, not even watering his flowers. 

Too scarce to be of worry, but just frequent enough to cause mild annoyance. Maybe he  _ should  _ let Sypha put a ward up around the area, like the one the two of them had installed around the new Belmont cottage, or the stronger one on the door to the Hold. Something to hide them, something to turn creatures of the night away, lest they be burned. Maybe he should just surround their area with holy water and call it a job well done. 

Adrian seriously contemplates that idea while he walks back home, after all Trevor would love the irony of it, and Sypha would love bathing in it. Sure it would burn every time he got within reach, and his lovers would turn the thought down the second they realized it posed danger to him, but it was something better than Sypha’s ‘wall of fire’ pitch. 

Dandelions catch his eye the closer he gets, growing in patches where stakes had been what seems like forever ago. He smiles at the memory.

Sneaking out with the two of them fast asleep, Adrian had whispered apologies to Sumi and Taka for the final time. A one-way conversation where he told him all his secrets. How he couldn’t teach them magic because he didn’t know how. It had to be in their blood, or they had to sell their souls for it, and that was a price he hadn’t thought they would like. How the castle truly was broken and could never be moved again, for not even he knew all the secrets of his father. How ‘Dracula’ had once simply been ‘Vlad’ or ‘Father’. How the two little dolls they had found in the kitchen meant more to him than any knowledge hidden in either libraries. How the people those dolls were modeled after remain the loves of his life, the only people he trusted fully, the people that saw him at his lowest and brought him back to the man he knew himself as.

He buried them out in the woods, whispering into the night that he wished they had met. Maybe then, Sumi would have been trained by a true hunter, a master of every weapon and every creature. Take would have had his fill of magic under Sypha’s watchful eye. Things could have been so different, but in that moment he had realized nothing good comes from living in the past. So he returned to bed and tucked himself into the safety of two stronger arms. 

And in the morning, when his lover realized what he had done, they had held him close and spoken with gentle voices and softer smiles. For not the first time in their company, Adrian had felt a tug at his chest that he now knew as love.

Here and now, looking up at a structure that once struck fear into his heart, Adrian smiles.

This castle is home now. Home with two idiots inside probably setting plates on a table and fetching herbs to cook with. Stretching up until it cut through the sky, sure, but no longer dark. No longer haunting. No longer with an eerie aura to shun all forms of life, not with flowers growing in front of the castle steps.

Perhaps this is how his mother saw it. 

He can almost see her here, looking up at beautiful gothic rooftops and embellished doors just to smile and walk through the doors into her home. Gleaming in the sunlight, softer and kinder than what villagers or any other thing would expect. 

Adrian is sure to pick a few of the dandelions for Trevor and Sypha to blow on before he follows the memory inside. 

A flower crumbles beneath his foot, another under one of his children’s. Slow and steady, just like the march into the forest, slow like the cold beginning to seep beneath his cloak and into his skin. Slow like the creature bringing forth his box. 

He opens it with steady hands that clap once for the mirror inside to spring to life.

“Sir Mirror, would you show me the traitor?”

The reflection of himself swirls into something he recognizes, a silver headed man tearing at a ring on his finger. Hector cries in the mirror, his tears striking something inside of the forgemaster watching. In the mirror, his counterpart freezes and then is thrown back by white arms.

_ Carmilla. _

She snarls something he cannot hear at his once friend, seizing the man by his throat. When she sinks her fangs into the man he goes limp, save the lost eyes that seem to stare past surfaces and into Isaac’s soul. Assuming he still has one. 

Tears slip down a tanned cheek and right into the stirring feeling that throbs inside. 

“Thank you, Sir Mirror, that is enough.” 

At the flick of his wrist the mirror falls into the box and is closed away once more. Isaac looks into the lifeless eyes of his Scholar.

“We’ll make camp here for the night, start a fire.” 

His creations leave him enough space to quell the feeling threatening to bubble into his chest.

Isaac chalks it up to pity, placing his head in trembling hands, a new scheme forming in his calm mind. Carmilla grows stronger, with Hector’s help he may be in line to die before his revenge is complete. With the threat of an army full of both vampires and night creatures, not to mention Carmilla's three generals, he may yet be outnumbered. Something almost as unsettling as silver tears next to silver hair. Having an ally in times of trouble has never been a bad idea, even if the ally was once an enemy.

“Wait. Bring back the mirror.” 

A minute passes before he’s staring at the reflection of a man just as lost as his fellow forgemaster.

“Sir Mirror, show me Alucard.” 


	2. Harmful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft moments, Trevor does some thinking, Sypha makes a connection, Hector being a big dumb bitch.  
> Also, peep at Adrian saying 'don't make me :(' and Trevor going 'fucking do it coward' like the idiots they are

“Back already?”

Adrian rolls his eyes at the snark, ignoring it in favor of wrapping his arms around Sypha’s waist while she turns a page.

“What have you found, little spark?”

Trevor huffs. Not that it’s anything new, honestly it’s a bit relieving to see the old Adrian mixing with the new one. Familiar, like nights spent by firesides with pointless jabs and endless chuckles. Although the sight before him isn’t new, it hasn't been since they pulled him back from death’s claws months ago, it still warms his heart. Golden and auburn come together in the loveliest way, like a thread that pulled him near the two, an invisible pull or maybe a  _ need  _ to be closer, even if he does just end up in the armchair a few feet away.

Sypha feels the same, if the way she relaxes in the bastard’s arms is any indication.

“One of your father’s old books, it’s amazing to think that big scary Dracula had a diary.” 

Adrian kisses the top of her head in response, but Trevor can almost feel his smile.

“Well, I hate to ruin your image of the man, but he was at one point nothing more than a big, frightening, teddy bear.”

They all share a grin at that, a mental image that’s equal parts alarming and endearing. Little Adrian, hanging off his father’s shoulders, his mother cackling behind them. Stories have been shared since their first night in the same bed, and somehow plain ‘Dracula’ seems insulting to the memories Adrian spoke. Memories like cooking for his mother’s birthday. Picking flowers, learning magic at his father’s side. Some of them fall in line perfectly with Trevor’s idea of the dead. Teaching swordsmanship as young as five years old, black magic when Adrian turned ten, witnessing the stealing of a life on his thirteenth birthday. It matches his own upbringing, darkness intertwined with lighter aspects of life. Love in the midst of something truly terrible. 

Sypha, the purest of them all, says something involving ‘plants’ and ‘check on the horses’ before she leaves the room, but Trevor’s far too gone to notice, somewhere deep in his mind trying to figure out the equation they seem to have solved perfectly.

Maybe it  _ is  _ her. She’s the light that beckons them both, something innocent and worth protecting. Although, innocent is something he knows she is not. He’s seen her decimate groups of night creatures in mere seconds, throw fireballs in fits of anger. Her little stunts when she was annoyed with him and there was alcohol around proved how dark their little spark could be. Not to mention how well she knows her way around both of their dicks. That was something so far from ‘innocent’ Trevor almost couldn’t believe it was the same woman.

Maybe it’s Adrian. Pure and strong like his golden hair, something that holds them together when Sypha’s glue starts to flake away. He had been the one to kiss humanity into them after Lenfeild while they caressed faith back into his marble limbs. But calling Adrian ‘pure’ seems as wrong as calling Sypha ‘innocent’. His ties to black magic were strong, he drinks blood, and his death count isn’t nearly as high as Trevor’s, but it is up there. Adrian had never been naive to the unpleasant ways of the world, he was born into it. He once called that darkness his home, gone giddy at the idea of suicide, his ties to all things unholy remains stronger than any of theirs.

And then there was him, Trevor. Not really sure what he offered besides jokes and arms to hold the two of them when they were too weak to face the world. Maybe he was the whip of chains that forced them together, the ones that he could almost feel around his neck, just as comforting as the Holy Grail on his hip. Protection when he could beat Adrian out the door, wisdom when Sypha had none. Someone to lighten hard times and be their rock when waves of the past crashed over them. Maybe that was enough, to hold and love them while he could. To be by their sides when no one else would stand with them.

The three biggest outcasts from society, finding happiness in holding their middle fingers up for God to see. They spat in his and Death’s face one too many times to be let off the hook, and Trevor’s learned by now that good things never come without payment, but haven’t they already paid enough? 

Was it not enough to watch his family burn? Surely, Adrian losing his mother and being the one to drive a stake through his father’s heart was enough. If not that, Sypha morning over tiny little shoes and the lost contact with her people while trying to save the world had to be. At the bare minimum, they _ had _ saved the world. Not once, but twice. Surely that covered the price of this small happiness.

If saving the world twice wasn’t enough, Trevor is at a loss to find something better.

“You’re thinking so hard I can hear it from here.” 

He looks up to find Sypha gone and a golden head nearing his. A kiss is placed right at the top of the scar on his eye. 

“Is everything alright? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you use your brain this much.”

“I use my brain a normal amount, thank you very much.”

Pretending to be annoyed by a side comment proves to be difficult when he’s faced with caring sun-like eyes. They’re burned permanently in his memory by now, cleansing him of whatever evil things that once plagued him in his sleep.

“You’re avoiding my question.”

Worry starts to seep into Trevor’s sun, so he takes one perfectly slender hand and kisses it.

“Everything is fine, Goldilocks. Just thinking about the last time I actually got to put all these muscles to work.”

Adrian nods. He gets it, of course he gets it. Trevor knows the thought that must keep him up at night, they’re the same as his own. Mortality becomes an issue when you’ve fallen for the undead. Strength will fade if it’s not used, and the same can be said for skills such as fighting and  _ not  _ dying.

“Spar with me? Until Sypha comes to kick both of our asses?”

Trevor stands to lead them, but Adrian is immovable when he wants to be, putting his ‘vampire bullshit’ to use so he can pull Trevor in for a hug. It’s brief and rarely happens with the sun high in the sky, more under sheets or in the morning glow of their tiny kitchen they prefer to use over the grand one. But it does quell the thoughts that one day he and Sypha will be gone, and there will be nothing for these strong arms to hold. It’s that thought that has Trevor holding onto the man just as hard, breathing in his scent and trying to immortalize this moment with the other ones, Sypha’s hand in his, their first time sleeping together. The first time with Adrian. Cuddling by the fireside. Both of them smiling at him under the moonlight….

“Come on, she’ll want to join as soon as she hears us.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The first time they shared blood was completely by mistake, in the very hallway that leads Sypha to the garden.

Hot and heavy, skin on skin, the three thought nothing of blood when mouths met to swallow up moans. She had pushed Adrian into it, shoving him right into Trevor’s arm. She hadn’t expected him to shove their dear dhampir up against the wall, and what a sight that had been, her two beautiful boys groaning together during a fight for dominance. Bloodlust was clouded by desire, she thought nothing of it, her head had been so far away from being careful with Adrian pinned before her. 

And then Trevor had pulled away with a gasp and a bleeding lip. 

Sypha had stood there in shock, watching golden eyes bleed into red, and even then the reality of it didn’t hit until Adrian cursed under his breath. 

“Let me go Trevor. I don’t wish to harm you.” 

It had been a plea, she now realizes, a desperate begging for Trevor to do anything but what he did.

“You haven’t fed in a while, you must be starving.”

Adrian had turned his face away. He had locked eyes with her, this time silently screaming for her to step in but she was frozen in place. Admittedly. and a little ashamed. to be turned on at the turn of events but horny even so. 

Granted, any thought of sex fled from her mind when Trevor forced Adrian’s face back to his and crashed their lips together. 

“If you’re hungry, drink.” 

“No.”

She had watched, somewhat horrified, somewhat aroused, as Trevor shoved Adrian’s head towards his throat.

“It’s safer to do it like this instead of waiting for your bloodlust to consume you.”

And Adrian, bless him, Sypha was sure there was no man better, had refused again.

“What if I hurt you?”

Muffled against skin, but she had seen fangs growing as he talked. It must have been torture to be so close for so long. In that moment, Sypha had finally found her voice and the courage to step closer.

“You won’t. Trevor is more than capable of removing you, and I’m here to ensure he is.”

Saints had always paled in comparison to him. Even with his eyes red and fangs on display, clearly wanting so badly for what was before him, Adrian shook his head.

“Please. This is your last chance, Trevor. If you offer me your blood again I may not be able to hold myself back.”

Trevor, the damned fool, had merely grinded against him and muttered out “Then don’t.”

In a flash Adrian was on him. To her utter astonishment, Trevor had let out something like a whine. Hot, so fucking hot to watch. Trevor moaning and falling apart with Adrian sunk into his neck. He was cumming before either of them could wrap their minds around it and Sypha soon found out why.

Every time that Adrian drank for them it was pure ecstasy. Pleasure in its purest form, ripping through them like fangs on skin, pushing them to an edge they had never known. 

Absolutely, utterly, coundfoundingly euphoric. 

Rarer moments had occurred, Adrian accidentally cutting his own lips in a kiss, a sword slicing his hand in the training room, a knife slipping when he was startled. 

The first time, she had thought nothing of it when she licked a bead of crimson off his already healed finger. And then she had  _ tasted  _ Adrian, and no other beverage had ever tasted the same. Sweeter than a fine wine, no bitter aftertaste, like honeydew on a hot day. She had stared in wonder the first time, and somehow it became normal. Just woven in with kisses and during nights when sex became brutally pleasing. 

Now it was almost offending to imagine Adrian drinking from anyone else. The simple idea of it makes Sypha wrinkle her nose every time. Even worse when she realized that someone other than her and Trevor had tasted him. To think, her Adrian,  _ their  _ Adrian, had shared with anyone else lit a strange fire in her. One that threatened to burn everything around her in a fit of jealousy. 

And that is precisely why she was terrified of it. 

Sypha hadn’t realized it, not until she went to light a candle and almost caught an entire wall on fire. 

Her powers grew with every drop of blood between them. Surely a coincidence, she had thought. And then one day she looked at Trevor and it all became clear. Instead of looking like the scrappy, battle worn man she met and fell in love with, Trevor was  _ glowing _ . His scars grew thinner, his smile younger, skin softer, lips plusher. 

Naturally, after a small panic in the wake of her discovery, she had thrown herself into Dracula’s old books. Searching for any answer than the one that flooded her mind that day.

Stupid. She had been so stupid to ignore facts passed down through generations, to ignore the countless books in the two libraries, to overlook the clear warning signs from every person she had ever known. Blood sharing is dangerous with black magic and other human activities, but with a vampire, the horror of it is unspeakable. One could be enthralled, enslaved, tortured, killed, or even worse. And if you drink enough vampire blood, everyone knows what happens next.

Sypha steps out into the afternoon, smiling at rose patches growing next to sage before making her way to the small bench inside their little garden. Arms full of books and a heavy heart, she sits, cracking open yet another one of Dracula’s diaries to continue her search. 

What she finds only largens the sinking pit in her stomach.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Cold. 

Everything is so goddamn fucking cold. It could be the ice surrounding fucking everything, but he knows better than that by now. This type of cold is worse than ice and snow that stick to his clothes even if he hasn’t stepped foot outside. This  _ fucking horseshit _ comes from blood loss and seeps into his soul in a way ice could only dream about. He’d learned about this type of cold after being snatched away from his home. Winter then had been brutal, but now….Hell, he’d rather have the fucking ice.

“You should’ve known better, didn’t I tell you I can only do so much for you.”

_ Fucking… _

He recognizes the voice, as annoying as it is to hear, he still finds comfort in it. One of the few civil vampires he’s ever come across. Also one of the most dangerous. Equal parts kind and fearful, if she wasn’t such a  _ manipulative mother fucker _ he might have fallen for her. His eyes blink open, he regrets it as soon as they do. 

Lenore sits by his fireplace, red hair making a mockery of the thing. Her coat is the only thing he envies at the moment, other than her freedom of course. Stupid bitch can go wherever she pleases, whenever she pleases, so why she sits in his cottage, he has no idea. It can’t be good though, it never is with those four.

“You’re lucky to possess unusual skills, Hector. Otherwise you’d be dead by now. Carmilla’s patience wore thin with you a long time ago. You shouldn’t push her.”

“I did no such thing.” 

His voice sounds better than he feels, not much given the way Lenore smiles at him. God, what he would do to bash that grin off her pretty face. He could do it with his forgehammer to make sure it never healed correctly. Then she would be just as ugly on the outside as she is beneath all that perfect skin.

“You tried to remove your ring, silly. We could all feel it, although I imagine it was actually painful for you.”

Isn’t that an understatement. Ripping off the ring had felt worse than walking for days with no food, sleep, or clothes. Like his flesh was being ripped off or burned. Nothing could compete with that pain. At least now he has fucking shoes.

“And who’s fault is it that I have the fucking ring in the first place? That bitch can burn in the daylight and so the fuck can you.”

“Is that so?”

Before he can come up with a witty remark, something he’s learned he can mostly get away with, the pretty face is glaring at him. Far too close for his comfort, and the hand dragging him forward by his shirt definitely isn’t a good sign. Hector’s eyes widen because  _ god dammit  _ he went too far.

“Learn your fucking place you  _ hellish village fool _ . Need I remind you that it was your own undoing that led you here. Once you side with Carmilla, there is no going back. Dracula is  _ fucking dead _ , you have no one but me and  _ I  _ am the only one here willing to show you a shread of fucking decency. And this is what I get for it? My sisters being woken up because you don’t know how to behave? Without me you’d still be in that goddamn cell. You owe me much more than your life for our little exchanges. I thought we were fucking making progress, so tell me, Hector,  _ do you need to be trained like a fucking dog _ ?” 

A weak shake of his head is all he can manage before he’s tossed into the wall and sliding back down to his bed. Stars dance behind his eyes, if it’s from the blood loss or his sudden headache, he can’t tell.

“Thought so. You seem to be mistaking my kindness for weakness once again, but I assure you, if you ever speak to me in such a manner again, I’ll let Carmilla do whatever the hell she wants with you. Do I make myself clear?”

Even after his treatment, she still looks beautiful. Not a single strand of hair out of place, her coat sitting perfectly on small shoulders. Ever the picture of grace. He must have hit his head  _ really fucking hard _ .

And he knows he must look like shit. Blood drained, fragile, properly dehumanized to all of them. It must be bad for her eyes to soften.

Lenore makes her way to him with gentle feet but he knows she could kick him into the next city on a whim, he should consider himself lucky when she cups his cheek.

“Now, now. There’s no need to look so broken. I’m sorry to have to harm you, but pets who misbehave must be punished. You are still my beloved pet. A naughty one, but endearing all the same. Once you’ve rested I’ll return with cheese and wine and we can speak of our next move, okay? If you can be nice, I might even play with you.” 

Hector nods, not sure if he can contain his hatred if he speaks. Lenore is smiling, so it must be enough, and then she’s by his door before he can blink. 

“At least try to sleep while I’m away.” Is all she says before she’s gone. 

Hector waits until the door shuts until he releases his mask, wishing for probably the millionth time that he wasn’t such a fucking idiot. Maybe then he would be back where he belonged, at his forge in Dracula’s castle. He could picture it if he tried hard enough. Himself, Dracula, and Isaac. Sitting under the forgelight and sharing drinks, sometimes laughter. 

Hector can feel a ghost of a smile on his lips as he remembers. 

Comparing forging techniques, watching Dracula light up the first time he revealed his work, listening to theory upon theory of how the craft came to be. Isaac rolling his eyes at slightly dead dogs, but petting them anyways, sarcastic as ever, but with a smirk that never meant any harm. 

Fuck, he misses the days when smiles never meant harm. 

He would sell whatever soul he has left to go back.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Lights have begun to blink to life when he finds her in the garden.

“Have you been out here reading all this time?”

Between lanterns on the ground and fireflies around them, she looks stunning. Adrian longs to kiss her, and nothing holds him back from doing so. Sypha leans into the kiss, standing to meet him. 

“I didn’t mean to take so long, I just found a few things and couldn’t stop reading.”

There’s a chuckle in her voice that soothes out concern in her forehead. It’s only for a moment. 

“What did you find that was so interesting you couldn’t hear us calling you for dinner? Trevor cooked up some excellent duck, and I made the rosemary potatoes you love.”

He’s trying to lead her back inside, dinner really is getting cold, and Trevor would be so pissed if she missed out on such a good meal. The man was waiting for her with his ‘kiss the cook’ apron on, it would be such a shame not to see it. Aprons had been made for all of them, starting with Sypha and him finding some cloth in their hunt for more wine, it only made sense to make Trevor something he would never wear but couldn’t refuse. Stupid thing had actually been their best work yet. Trevor with nothing on but an apron, cooking them breakfast after a good, long fuck was one of his many newfound joys in life.

But Sypha has other plans, tugging on his hand and looking down. Her expression is one that sends dred down his spine. The thoughts come before he can stop them.

Is it time for them to leave again? They couldn’t stay with him forever...maybe it was better if they left. Went off to start a life with just the two of them, far away from a looming castle where the threat of death was their only worry. Not Adrian’s own stupid immortality. They could have children, continue the Belmont name, maybe one of their ancestors would eventually kill  _ him. _

“Adrian, I would like to ask you something.” 

His breath catches in his throat, but he nods anyways. “Go ahead, love.” 

With every second Sypha struggles to find words a billion scenarios cross his mind. All of them end with him alone all over again, which is probably why her question catches him completely off guard.

“You’ve read all of your father’s books, haven’t you?”

Air rushes into his lungs once more. “Not quite, most of them, yes, but I tend to keep away from anything too personal.”

Sypha hums, eyebrows scrunched together. “Then I guess you may not know…”

“Know what?”

When her eyes meet his, he can feel something is wrong before the words come out of her mouth.

“Adrian….I’ve found many secrets in these books. How to get the castle moving, the magic that courses through it, the build of every room. I’ve seen your mother through his eyes, I’ve seen you through his eyes. I’ve read of the horrors of the vampire courts through the ages...but Adrian, my love,”

She draws in a deep breath, searching his face for something he doesn’t understand.

“Did you know that you might be turning Trevor and I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> isaac, you need to come collect your man plz,


	3. Emotions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! In this chapter there is a scene in which Hector gets raped. I know it's triggering so I put a line of dashes around the scene so PLEASE DO NOT READ THAT SCENE if it triggers you or makes you uncomfortable in anyway! It is not graphic but you should not risk your mental health for a fanfiction! Once again, the scene begins with a dashed line and ends with one, and I used Issac's insight so if you skip it you will not be missing vital information. Please BE SAFE!

It’s amazing how quickly things can go from good to bad. How warm bodies in bed can turn into cold spaces, how happy dinners morph into silence. How familiar touches disappear in the dead of night. How something so normal and important and  _ needed  _ in daily life can slip through fingers when someone’s not looking.

Trevor waits for them, chef’s apron and all, keeping the food warm and Sypha’s cup cold. Any second now, Adrian will carry her through the kitchen door. She’ll be laughing with a book in her lap and he’ll be smiling and setting her down with some stupid nickname they both secretly love. He’ll kiss them both and they’ll eat and maybe fight a little bit….and fighting usually leads to sex...and then maybe a shower and cuddling before sex all over again. So of course he waits for it...waits for them.

And then Sypha walks through the door and….

_ So no threesome tonight… _

Her face says it all, she never has been good about hiding her emotions. One look into her eyes and he’s crossing the room to pull her to his chest. Sadness, guilt, hate, things he hadn’t seen since Linfeild. The only new thing struck some cord in him he really didn’t care to examine. Not when that emotion is so terrifying.

Sypha had never feared one thing the entire time he’d known her. Not when she ventured into creepy tunnels to find their ‘savior’ back in Greshit. Not when they stopped their first night creature, or the hundreds that followed. Not when she slept beside two dangerous men she had just met. Not when she fucking moved Dracula’s castle. If he remembers correctly, she hadn’t even blinked when they walked in the stupid place to destroy the crazy old man. Much less at Linfeild, where people were trying to fucking defy death of all things. She’s been more annoyed than anything that time. Sypha is brave, she is strong and hard headed, just as stubborn as the other two in their little tiro are. And yet, here she stands, fear clearly written in tears spilling onto his apron. “What happened? Where’s Adrian?”

She  _ sobs.  _

_ Not the right question then... _ Trevor holds her tighter. He’s not good with the emotional shit dammit! Where the hell is Adrian? He’s always been better at comforting, he’s always understood emotions more. Now that Trevor actually thinks about it….where the  _ hell  _ is he? Adrian literally went to get Sypha, at Trevor’s whinny demand, sure, but he had gone regardless. They had to have met outside, or maybe in the hallway to the garden… He didn’t go out by himself again, did he? Is he out fighting some monster? Is his absence the reason their Speaker looked petrified?  _ Is he safe? _

Sypha shakes in his arms, and Adrian isn’t walking through the door. Fear grips him like he grips her shoulders.

“Sypha. Is there some monster I need to kill outside? Are you hurt? ”

She shakes her head ‘no’. That’s two worries crossed out. “Is he safe?” 

A shake of the head ‘yes’ is all he gets before he’s pulling her in again. For a moment they stand there, locked in the middle of the kitchen, Sypha crying as he rubs her back. If Adrian is safe that means he can wait until Sypha is okay. Trevor had learned how to deal with a broken Adrian, not his favorite thing to do by a long shot, but he could do it. Sypha on the other hand... He takes her hand, “Come on, your dinner is getting cold.”

Sypha doesn’t eat as much as she should, but at least she eats something. Some potatoes here, a sip of water there. She slows to a stop before half of it is finished. He brings her plate to the sink, takes her hand and leads her out of the room. 

“Do you want a bath?”

“No. I really just want to sleep for a bit.” Is what she says, but she makes no move to pull her hand away from his. So he takes her to their bedroom. He’s surprised to see that Adrian isn’t there, but he doesn’t show it. Eventually he’d have to go looking, but for now he tucks Sypha in, staying close while she plays with his fingers.

“Trevor…”

The hunter looks down at her, red-rimmed eyes and such an honest expression his heart all but melts.

“What happens to Adrian when we die?”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


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“I’ll kill you with my own hands if you try to betray me, do I make myself clear you failed excuse for a bitch?”

Yeah, he probably deserved that one. Maybe Lenore was right, maybe he should learn his place a little. If he did, maybe he wouldn’t constantly be thrown around like a fucking ragdoll. Then again, even a ragdoll would have known better than to refuse a direct order from it’s captives.

“Yes ma’am.”

The slap Carmilla hands him echoes in her room, the stupid ‘bedroom’ is bigger than his old house, but it was his own fault he got summoned here. He really should learn to take a better perspective of things. Wasn’t Issac always telling him to be more mindful? Maybe that had been Drac…

“What did I tell you to call me when in my quarters?”

“Forgive me, Mistress.”

She strokes the side of his face, a small smile playing on her eerily red lips. Hector’s gut churns. Carmilla smiling was never a good thing. Not when he was involved.

“Good pet. Now strip.”

Her last words are a command, but Hector remains frozen. He could get over sleeping with Lenore. It was a trick, he hadn’t been thinking clearly, it was the first time someone had shown him kindness in ages….but  _ her _ .

Another slap, but this one sends him flying onto her bed.

“I said  _ strip. _ ”

His mind goes blank. If he shuts his eyes he can pretend like it will all go away. He could be back in his hut, before Dracula came to recruit him. Just him and his pets, no war, no evil vampires, no betrayal, and Dracula would still be alive. Sure, he would lose memories like finally getting Issac to smile and the one time he managed to hold his own with Dracula at a chess table, but he’d give anything to go back if it meant-

“If you won’t do it yourself, I’ll do it for you. Keep your fucking eyes open or I’ll have them removed.”

Hector’s eyes snap open, but his mind stays shut. He can feel Carmilla’s hands on him, feel his nakedness, feel the erection he is not connected to. She moves like a predator, something about Lenore being right, something about it not being half-bad. He feels it all, sees it all, but somehow he’s floating. 

His body disconnected, somewhere far away where not even the devil himself could find him. Is this his price to pay? For betraying his only friend, was this the hell in which he was condemned? He deserved this, maybe it would earn him Dracula’s forgiveness in another life. Maybe in another life things would’ve been different completely. In another life, Lisa would be alive, and Dracula would have kept to his promise of them all meeting. The castle would be a happy place full of love and smiles. Dracula had always wanted Hector to meet his son, something about them maybe being friends, something about how having a human friend would make Lisa happy. In another life, he could be at their dinner table, dining with a real family instead of feeling a searing pain from his neck.

Carmilla pulls her fangs out just to stab him again.

_ Damn... _ that’s gonna leave a mark. Lenore is gonna be so pissed, and he’ll probably be the one taking the hits for it. He takes the hits for everything these days.

A human punching bag. Or, more realistically, a slave. They kept him in chains for so long he could still feel them on his skin. 

Hector can feel himself draining, if she takes more he won’t be able to move but Carmilla had never been one for mercy. He’s unsure of how long the thing actually goes on until he feels cold surrounding him and he’s being dumped on the floor. It’s only then that he makes an effort to regain his senses. 

Not really a good thing considering he can’t feel half his body and he’s getting the glare he usually gets right before a bone or two are broken.

“I said get out of my sight. Take your filthy clothing with you.”

Any chance to get away from her is a chance he’ll take. Moving his legs is almost more difficult than the end of their long march here, but it’s worth it.

He’d do anything to get away from Carmilla. Even if that meant killing himself in the process

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


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Issac slams the mirror box shut. He’d seen enough, too much actually. The look in Hector’s eyes had been so distant, never had he seen a man so broken, and he had been with Dracula in his final hours. Watching that...watching Carmilla….

He had walked hand in hand with hatred for most of his life, but this feeling consumed him whole. This feeling stained his vision red, swallowed him whole, unlike any anger he had felt before. Once he got his hands on her, he would tear her apart. Piece by piece until he felt her punishment was complete. And Hector...the more he watched the man the more conflicted he felt about killing him.

On one hand, he was a traitor. More than likely by accident, giving his overly-trusting nature, but a traitor nonetheless. He is the reason Dracula no longer walks with the living. Or, Carmilla’s manipulation was… From the looks of it he had suffered enough at her hands, and seeing as Dracula had gotten what he wanted in the end, hadn’t Hector pleased him more than Issac?

Issac had been loyal to the very last second, fighting beside the man's side, trying to convince him that life was still worth living. But Hector had seen his wish for death, and granted it through a betrayer's hands. If Issac could look to Alucard, the one who delivered the final blow, for help, could he find it in himself to forgive Hector?

Letting the forgemaster live might be the greatest punishment Issac could find. And seeing as white hot rage burned through him at the sight of his old partner’s mistreatment, it was obvious there was something inside his own self he was missing.

“You seem...troubled, my lord.” 

He looks to his Scholar, bowing before him, and since the creature held wisdom as a man, it could not hurt to indulge.

“Yes...Scholar, tell me, as a man, what do you remember about your emotions?”

The creature thinks for a moment. Taking time to form words was not an easy task for the reanimated. Firelight from their pit in the woods cackles in the silence around them, a few of his children have sat, others remain on guard. There is no nearby threat, not that he can sense, and yet they stand watch.

Issac idly wonders if the night creatures are better than humans after all. 

“...I remember them being...dangerous. But, sometimes, good….we lived somewhat peacefully, drank and ate well….my friends...my friends and I were close, closer than humans should be… at my last moments...I remember anger. More than I had ever experienced...the thought of leaving...forced to face death...forced to leave them was...maddening. There was a person...a man...who meant something to me...something important...to leave him and face the cruel truth of this world’s….justice… I almost could not bear it...That is the only emotion I recall, my lord.”

Something eerily familiar to the rage only beginning to calm inside him at the sight of Hector’s lifeless eyes. He takes a moment to compose himself, lest he show how conflicted he is in front of his men, honesty was always the best option, but only to a certain degree. 

“Anger,” Issac begins, “Has a funny way of distorting reality. I confess, I am no longer sure if my anger at the Betrayer is at him or his captive, myself, or even Dracula, the one man I respected. Before this, before his death, I did not hate Hector. I grew rather content to have a partner in the madness, to stand with a like mind in the midst of vampires who wanted our heads...it builds a bond. To work together towards a common goal, it builds trust. And to share meals together, I assume that is meant to build friendship...I do not know what sharing stories and meaningless laughter was meant to build...and yet here I am, on my way to kill him.”

And it was true. Hector had always treated him with respect, left him creatures to play with, more than was required. They drank tea together, watched sunrises when vampires proved annoying, ate dinner in secluded places of the castle. They found moments to bring peace amongst the dizzying task that was set before them. As native and innocent as Hector had once been, as angry as Issac had been when he learned the truth, as wounded as he was about the whole situation, there was a small part of him that wished the two were still examining each other’s forges and complimenting respective works with Dracula beside them. 

“Forgive me, if I misspeak, my lord...do you wish to kill the Betrayer?”

Issac grows quiet. It’s a question he’s unsure of himself. But one thing is for sure.

“I know I mean to rip Carmilla’s head from her shoulders and stake it into the ground.”

The forest rings around him at the statement, the intensity of it bringing every one of his creation’s eyes to his. Hate laced his voice when he spoke her name, and though he imagined most humans would shrink at the sight of any head staked, Issac would rejoice. He would chop her body to pieces and dance as the sunlight burned it all to ashes.

“As for Hector...I will figure that out by the time we reach Alucard.”

His Scholar nods, “Yes, my lord.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“What are you talking about, Sypha. We don’t need to think about that for another thirty years.” 

She doesn’t answer immediately, preferring to twist their fingers around. 

“What good will avoiding it do? We are human, Trevor. He is immortal. We will be ripped from him and he will be left here all alone, you know his grief ruined him last time, what will happen to him when we are stolen and-”

“I won’t do a damn thing because there is no force on this world or the next that will steal me away from you two.”

It comes off harsher than he intends, but his words are always harsh. Even the ones whispered in the middle of the night carry his intensity. It is one of the many things she adores. She does not adore his rants, but once he gets started there is very little she can do to stop him, and this time, she prefers not to. 

“Death, God, and Satan be damned, if any of them try to take away the happiness we’ve found I’ll defy them all. I finally have a home, I finally have things to love and protect. After so very long I am happy. You are happy,  _ Adrian  _ is happy. Nothing matters to me other than that. So long as I breathe I will fight to keep this. If God comes, I’ll remind him of how many fucking lives we’ve saved. If the Devil himself shows up at our door, I’ll point out the fucking soldiers we returned to him. And if Death threatens us I’ll sell my fucking soul so he can’t have it. I don’t care what it takes. I will not lose this.”

She knows there are better ways to tell him. She knows she should find Adrian and talk with him before she speaks. She knows there are so many other ways to broach this than the words falling from her lips.

“And what if we have to give up our humanity to stay by his side?”

That makes him pause. She regrets it immediately as his eyes narrow. It’s a look he only uses when he realizes that something horrifying has happened, or when he’s trying to hold himself back. Sypha hope it’s the latter, she hopes her words haven’t made him realize-

“What aren’t you telling me?”

_ Here we go… _

She’s done this so many times, dug her own grave from words carelessly thrown about. This wasn’t something she could crawl out of. There was no escaping this, not with the impact it had on them all. Not after the look she had brought to Adrian’s face.

“He came to find me in the garden, I was reading one of Dracula’s old books again. One of his logs…..I don’t think he knew Trevor, I really don’t think he realized. He wouldn’t do that to us, he loves us too much.”

“Sypha. Love. Explanation, now please.”

There’s anxiety creeping into his voice. She hates being the one to put it there, she hopes against all odds she doesn’t hurt him too.

“Trevor, have you looked at your scars recently? Or seen my magic? Have you noticed how much younger we are both looking?”

From the dawning look on his face, he already knows where the story is going.

“I did. So I looked into it and…”

“He’s turning us.”

Trevor pulls away from her, moving to pace around the room. His feet pad lightly against the wooden floor, shadow looking much bigger than he felt, she’s sure. Too tired to follow him, she watches, waiting for one of the emotions on his face to explode. Anger, betrayal, hope, confusion, she starts speaking once he hits sadness.

“He didn’t know.” She begins quietly. “When I told him, Trevor his face….”

The horror, the hate. Sypha had seen it all come crashing down but hadn’t cared until he was gone.

“I said horrible things Trevor. I thought he knew. I asked him what you’re thinking. ‘How could you not know?’; ‘Why didn’t you ask?’; ‘What were you thinking?’ I thought maybe he would know how to fix it and he...he cried Trevor. He wouldn’t stop apologizing, his panic was worse than mine and I didn’t even stop to ask him if he was okay...and Trevor...I’ve been so scared, thinking one day we’d be completely different and neither of us would know. He reacted in such a way...he couldn’t have known…”

Trevor remains quiet, staring out into the world going dark outside. His shoulder sag with every breath, tense just like his jaw.

“Where is he?” He spits out through clamped teeth.

That was another issue. After their talk her beloved dhampir had mumbled something that sounded vaguely like ‘I understand’ and vanished. Left her frozen in the garden at the wake of what she had done.

“I don’t know...he disappeared before I could collect myself.”

He’s starting to the door before she can blink, “I’m going to find him.”

“And say what? What can you say that I haven’t already said? This isn’t something we can face without figuring it out first. You said you would do anything to keep this, is becoming a vampire included? Or will you kill him where he stands?”

Trevor hesitates and for a second she thinks she may have actually gotten through to him, and then he’s moving again.

“We’ll find out when I get there.”

Sypha hangs her head. She needs to get up. She needs to stop them before things get out of control...but first she needs to figure out her own answer to that question.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Adrian stares out the window, perched right on the edge. Maybe a fall from here would kill him. If not, he could at least watch their carriage when they depart in the morning. 

How could he have been so blind? Of course his blood would change them. It had been foolish to assume they were safe just because he hadn’t followed his father’s stupid rituals. He knew vampires turned without consent, why should time be any different? His fucking father hadn’t followed _any_ rules until he met Lisa...he should’ve known better.

A vampire’s blood is not something to be taken lightly, even if he is a dhampir, he knows he has the power. His father  _ told  _ him he has the power. How could he be so foolish?

Or was he being selfish this time?

He knew they would leave eventually. Depart to start their own life, somewhere human and bright, not in a creepy old castle run by a crazed lunatic. If they were turned….he could have them forever. If they were turned, there was nothing keeping them apart.

If they were turned it would strip them of their humanity, the very thing Adrian loves most about them both. 

Adrian could never do something like that to them. Not without their explicit consent, hell it took him ten minutes before he let himself drink from Trevor. If he had known what drinking his blood would do to them he would have never let it happen. It was supposed to be innocent, like kisses on cheeks or smiles from across the room. 

This was never supposed to happen. 

But how could he face them now? If there was no cure, if it had gotten further than he and Sypha realized, their lives would be over. The point of no return was a fine line easily hidden from eyes that aren’t watching, and he had kept his eyes willfully shut the whole time. Stupid. He had been so fucking stupid to think this entire thing was a good idea. Either way, he had to find a fix, and fast. If he could get it to them before morning he could fix what he had done before they left this awful place behind. Then Adrian could do what he should’ve done the first time they left, put the castle, himself included, in the ground where it belongs. 

Adrian flashes to his mother’s lab before he can change his mind.

It’s changed, just like everything else in his life. Gone from a dusty old room to functioning again. Once filled with spiders and spoiled experiments, now there was a glow of light, a small herb farm, some decorations Sypha had insisted on.

Sypha…

The thought of her breaks his heart all over again. She had every right to look at him with betrayal. Every right to question him. More right to hate him than anyone else in the world...except maybe Trevor.

If he was lucky, Adrian mused as he poured over a book entitled ‘Blood Remedies’, Trevor would stake him and call it a job well done. He’d even give the hunter a thumbs up for it. 

Piles of books soon litter the floor around him, all of them useless. He’s begun experimenting at this point, testing out things to see if they make him feel weak. If they hurt only his blood, maybe he could find a way to kill his blood out of him. Hopefully without it hurting.

One after another he pours liquids down his throat, each proving pointless from his actual purpose. Every one of them makes him more woozy and more determined than the last.

Trevor finds him right as his latest creation sparks fire. He’s throwing the burning drink down into his mouth the exact second Trevor calls out to him.

The empty bottle is smacked out of his hand right as blue eyes come into view. 

_ Staking time… _

“What the hell are you doing?!”

Adrian meets his eyes with dulled shock. Emotions flash through worryingly clouded eyes, some too fast for him to see, but he does catch on to guilt, sadness, and surprise. The idiot in his grasp has already swallowed what ever the fucking burning shit was, not a good sign by any means, and who knows what else he’s taken in the thirty bottles shattered on the floor. 

“I-I was looking for a cure.”

Trevor’s reacting before he can think. “And you assumed testing them out without telling anyone was a good idea?! What if you were hurt?”

They stare for a moment so intense for a second he fears Adrian might break down, instead he lets out a long sigh. Trevor releases him in favor of trying to solve this peacefully. It’s what he and Sypha both want. 

“What were you trying to find a cure for? The whole vampire thing?”

Adrian takes a sharp breath and ya know, maybe he  _ should  _ have listened to Sypha and figured out a game plan. He hates seeing this look on his lover’s face. To make it worse, Adrian steps a foot away from him, crosses his arms, and turns his head.

“Yes.”

Only a foot away and it feels like miles. Trevor has to grit his teeth to keep a snark from coming out. Now isn’t the time. He expected to be more angry when he saw the man, but now that he was actually seeing him, all he wanted to do was pull Adrian close and never let go. Unfortunately, Adrian doesn’t seem to have ‘closeness’ in his plans for the moment. 

“That’s...something, isn’t it? Care to explain any of them?”

Something always lights up in Adrian when he works in his mother’s laboratory, and that’s not different tonight. He’s crossing the small distance between them, back to one of the books open on one of the counters. 

“None of them are working.” He growls, and before Trevor can ask him to continue he goes on, “The plan was to find a reversal effect but all these books only talk about the consequences, or how to kill off vampire blood if it was infecting wounds. Nothing in here about being able to reverse the effects, so I started experimenting. I thought maybe if I combined a few things meant to kill vampires but not humans it would fix it. If I can find a cure before you leave tomorrow, I thought it might mean you two could live a good life again, but so far the only thing that actually hurt was holy water and blessed grapes, the rest of it just felt like I had been drinking beer.”

There are a few things Trevor would like to dissect about those revelations, but the last bit slams him in the face before he can control himself. He grabs the dhampir by his shoulders, hurling him around and pushing him back until there’s nowhere to run.

“Holy water? Blessed grapes? Did you add a bit of silver to it as well? What the hell are you thinking Adrian? Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”

“It was a diluted form of silver I’ll have you know!”

“So you are back to being suicidal?”

“There’s no point in me living if you and Sypha are gone!”

Adrian’s shout echoes through the room, and suddenly air can’t find its way into Trevor’s lungs. Even the hum of burning liquids ceased in the confession, which is probably why Adrian lowers his voice and looks away before he speaks.

“I can’t be alone again, Trevor. It drove me to the brink of madness. I knew you and Sypha would leave one day. You’re both human, it’s natural to want to reproduce and you couldn’t do that, you couldn’t have the family you deserve with me in the way. I figured we had maybe a good two years before you realized and left...so I started making plans. You know I wanted to let the castle be my grave, but you were right when you said the Belmont Hold and this stupid place had to be protected. I’ve already formulated the blood spells to keep the Hold safe. I was ready to put it into action after your departure, and then I was going to bury the castle and myself deep under the earth, maybe put a flower garden on top. I’ll put it in place after you leave tomorrow, so please.” He finally looks up, and it’s then that Trevor realizes he’d never seen Adrian beg outside of sex.

“Let me fix what I’ve done to you. Then I swear, by the name of my mother, you will never have to see me again.”

Trevor flinches at the words. A world without Adrian was somewhere he and Sypha simply refused to be. And if being this close didn’t make it make sense to him, Trevor would just have to get closer. 

He slams his lips into Adrian’s without a second thought, and to his credit, Adrian makes a token attempt at getting away, but Trevor follows. Bringing an arm up to caress golden locks into a deeper kiss. 

“Let  _ me  _ get this through your thick skull. Sypha and I aren’t going anywhere and I will snap Death's neck before I let him have you.”

Trevor kisses him again before he has time to respond, much less think. Adrian thought too damn much for his own good, it was time to stop using that big brain of his and use some other organ.

Like the erection Trevor currently grinded against. 

Forcing his way into Adrian's mouth proves rewarding when slender fingers grasp his shirt. A chill rushes through his spine like it does every time one of them touches him like it...Adrian is touching him... _ fucking finally _ .

Breaking away long enough to shove all the shit on the counter aside, just long enough to tear Adrian’s pants off him and plop him on top of the stupid thing is easy, but Adrian seems to have a lot of plans that don’t align with his for the evening.

“Trevor…”  _ Fuck  _ Adrian breathless really did a number on him.

“Are you sure?”

The hunter slots himself between his prey’s legs, capturing that pretty mouth like it’s his right.

“I have never been more sure in my goddamn life.”

It’s the only answer he gets before Trevor is kissing down his neck, ripping his shirt open and scattering buttons on shattered glass. Part of him knows this is fucked up, and he should really bring Adrian back to the bedroom so the three of them can have a talk about blood, and vampires, and how Adrian is convinced that he’s destined to die alone in this shithole. But none of that matters when he reaches for Adrian’s cock and he  _ whimpers. _

He slicks up one hand with his spit, pumping like his life depends on it all while shrugging out of his own pants. Whatever happens, he has to get Adrian out of his head. He has to prove to this insufferable prick that he and Sypha love him, that they trust him and that he means everything to them. Adrian had been stretched that morning, in his mind that feels like it was years ago, but Adrian’s body remembers differently. 

Trevor doesn’t think before he acts, something that’s gotten him in trouble more times than he’d care to admit. Hopefully, this wouldn’t be one of those times. And in his defense, it was  _ very  _ difficult to think with a beautiful man moaning his name.

Moving Adrian’s legs like the dhampir is only a few pounds, Trevor lines himself up and pushes in. They both scream at the feeling and  _ fuck  _ does it feel good. Adrian’s always so tight, always so willing. Always so perfect, even getting fucked on a messy counter top he looks like an angel.

Everyone makes split-second decisions, most of them are dumb in Trevor’s case, but he’ll blame it on hormones later. 

In reality, he’s not sure what makes him do it. Everything screams ‘bad idea’, he and Sypha had just talked about how dangerous it is, and he had come to find the man he’s balls deep in to talk about it, maybe scream about it. He knows the consequences of it now. Still doesn’t stop him from leaning forward and biting Adrian’s neck. 

There’s no blood the first bite, but there is a noise he’s never heard Adrian make before, so he does it again.

“T-Trevor!”

A third bite, right where collared shirts can’t hide it, finally breaks the skin and blood comes rushing out with Adrian’s cry. Exhilarating, it always is. Like the perfect booze he’d been looking for his entire life. Something that shook his very soul and exploded heat into his belly. Adrian healed too fast for it to last long, but Trevor licks the spot anyways, pulling back to fuck into the smaller man with new purpose.

Adrian’s a mess below him, arching on the counter, hair falling every way possible, panting and moaning like it’s the only thing he’s good for.

“Please... _ fuck _ ….I-”

He cuts off with a moan, cum splattering between them and with the sight  _ and  _ the feeling of walls clenching around him, Trevor isn’t far behind. Groaning out some broken form of his lover’s name that sounds more like a prayer. 

Trevor collapses on top of the man, not bothering to pull out yet, merely propping himself up on his elbows so he can meet Adrian’s wide eyes.

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

“You...you fucking bit me!”

“Can you blame me? You’re talking about us leaving, which is insane, because encase we haven’t told you enough, Sypha and I are in love with you!” More quietly he adds, “You don’t leave the people you love.”

The statement sounds deeper than he means it to, but maybe it is. What he said was true. And dying is just another form of leaving Adrian behind.

Before he can speak again, feet approach and dainty hands are pushing him away. Trevor starts to protest but then Sypha pulls Adrian in for a breathless kiss. Golden eyes widen, but Adrian kisses back, face relieved. When she pulls back they both look happy, and that’s all that Trevor cares about. 

“We’re going to have to talk about this. With our clothes on and dicks away, gentlemen. But right now we have bigger problems.”

She tugs Trevor in for a kiss before she continues, staying right where Adrian has his arms wrapped around her. 

“Someone is approaching. And they have an army of night creatures with them.”

Trevor hangs his shoulders. 

He never would get to just sleep after sex, would he?

“Fuck.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oop. It's been too long, I know. I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy! Please take care of yourselves! Be safe!


End file.
